


Alone Together

by TheOlderDixonBoy



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 21:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20142262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOlderDixonBoy/pseuds/TheOlderDixonBoy
Summary: AU with no zombie apocalypse. Merle Dixon goes running each morning on the same route around the same neighbor. He sees the same man each morning, and never speaks to him, until one day he does.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold morning in October. The fog had not yet dissolved into humidity and the sun had not yet burned off any hope of staying cool. Merle dixon was jogging, mindlessly, through the streets of some neighborhood he had never stopped at. It was a few streets over from his small apartment complex and he found it was safe to run here. Quiet too. He focused on his breathing, the sound of his feet hitting the pavement. He never wore headphones, preferring to let his own thoughts drift and fade away as he ran. He was looking down at the pavement, trying to blank his mind so he didn’t convince himself he was too tired to keep going. Merle was determined to stay in shape. He had to. It had been beat into him as a boy and screamed into him as a young man in the Marines. The burning in his lungs was the only thing that felt right some mornings, the only thing that reminded him he was still alive and he still had a beating heart.

He rounded the corner at the end of this block of houses and turned down the next. Two small intersections later Merle looked up. This is where the other man usually ran with him for a few blocks. Not with him, but next to him, near him. They were always out at similar times, jogging by one another at a similar pace until their paths diverged. Merle looked forward to these few minutes with this man. He had never spoken to Merle, but he always smiled at him when they first saw one another. He was a handsome man, with tanned skin and dark close cropped hair. Merle noticed the man would cycle between periods of being clean shaved and growing just the beginning of a beard. Merle liked it best when the man was a little bit scruffy. But he wasn’t sure why. Or why he enjoyed seeing the man so much. Merle thought he was handsome, but he always shook those thoughts out of his head. Those thoughts aren’t allowed. Not about men. Daddy made sure of that. Merle clenches his jaw and keeps running, the burning in his legs making him feel oddly grounded.

A few strides later he sees the man out of the corner of his eye. Merle looks up and the man smirks at him and gives him a little wave. He has earbuds in so Merle thinks it’s useless to say anything. The two of them run along one another for a few minutes, the younger man running at a faster pace than Merle usually sets for himself, but he tries to keep up. He can feel the cold air in his lungs contrasting with the burning in his legs tired. His feet hit the pavement in faster, rhythmic beats. Three blocks later the younger man turns right and Merle turns left, back home. Every morning Merle is tempted to turn right, and every morning he turns left.

Merle made it around the loop of the neighborhood and headed back towards his own complex. He only stops running when he gets to his front door on the bottom floor of his complex. He stands in front of his door, panting and grimacing at the soreness in his legs and the stitch in his side. When he opens the door he heads immediately to the shower. Once the water is hot he steps underneath it, letting it burn his skin slightly as his mind drifts. He absentmindedly scrubs away the sweat on his body, thinking of the man who he sees every morning on his run. He wonders if that man is also showering now, if he’s also naked, water falling over his naked body, and…

Merle shakes his head and immediately turns the water off. No. He can’t think about that. It isn’t allowed. And besides, that man is so beautiful there is no way he’d ever think to Merle. Better to just ignore these thoughts. Merle dried himself off and got dressed for work. Just keep moving. Don’t think about the man.

“What’s his name?” Merle thought as he left for work. He thought about him again when he was getting his lunch. And while he was clocking out and taking his tired body home from the auto shop. And as he got into bed that evening. And once more as he drifted off to sleep.

—

The next few days went much the same way. A jog. A small smile or wave hello. Merle’s heart fluttered every time he saw the man, and fell every time he did not have the courage to say anything. The following Saturday Merle went for his jog, same as always, and in the same spot saw that usual handsome man. This time, however, he was going a bit slower than usual. Merle noticed because he was able to keep up with him without having to speed up. Merle noticed the headphones that the man usually wore were not in.

“Say something,” a voice in Merle’s head chimed in.

It was the most nerve wracking word Merle had ever said, and took all of his courage and strength to say anything.

“Mornin’,” Merle spat out, trying not to sound too obviously out of breath.

“Morning,” the other man mumbed.

Merle noticed he flinched when he spoke and turned his head around, continuing to jog. The two men jogged for a few steps before the man stopped and promptly threw up in the bushes on the side of the road.

“What the fuck?” Merle said out loud, not sure what else to say.

Merle stopped jogging and stood behind the man as he continued to puke his guts out.

“You okay, man?” Merle asked. He stood there trying to catch his breath and wondering what the hell was happening.

“Gah, yeah, fuck, sorry,” the man panted out. He was groaning, still bent over, spitting out the last of the puke from his mouth.

“Don’t be sorry,” Merle laughed. Fuck, his voice was even attractive. “You need help?”

“No, no, just hung over,” the man said with a laugh despite clearly being uncomfortable. “Drank too much last night.”

“At least ya got up an’ ran,” Merle said. His heart was pounding and it took everything in his power not to start to shake or laugh uncontrollably. He was mad at himself for being a middle aged combat veteran with a dumb crush on a pretty brown eyed man, but here he was.

“Ha, that’s true,” the man said with a laugh. He straightened up and looked at Merle before shaking his head and laughing again. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“No problem. Name’s Merle,” Merle said, and stretched his hand out, grateful it wasn’t shaking with how nervous he was.

“Caesar,” the man said and took Merle’s hand and shook it.

His handshake was firm, even, and his hands were large and warm and just slightly calloused. They were perfect Merle thought. It wasn’t for a few seconds that he realized he still had Caesar’s hand in his.

“Nice to put a face to the name,” Caesar said. He had caught his breath and grinned at Merle. 

Merle’s heart almost stopped when he saw the man’s smile. “Fuck he’s handsome” Merle thought to himself. Merle nodded a few moments later when he realized he hadn’t said anything back. Merle looked down and then looked down the road he was planning on running down, an overwhelming desire to run away from this moment surged through him. He shook it off.

“Guess I should head back home,” Caesar said after a moment of silence.

He was looking at the man who had stopped to help him and couldn’t help but grin. He had noticed the man with the short cropped greying hair on his morning runs, but had never before noticed just how blue his eyes were. Puking in a bush was not how he wanted his first conversation with this man to start.

“Do ya live ‘round here?” Merle asked, hoping his question didn’t come off as odd.

“Yeah, just a few streets over,” Caesar said. “You?”

“Uhm, nah,” Merle said. He ran his hand over his neck and laughed softly. “I live in the complex a few blocks away. Jus’ like runnin’ here. Safe. Quiet.”

“Feel you there,” Caesar answered. “It was nice to meet you, Merle. See ya around.”

Merle gave Caesar a half hearted wave and nodded his goodbyes. Caesar waved his hand back, a single stiff wave, and turned to walk away. He had to will himself to not look back as he headed back home, and Merle had to hope Caesar didn’t look back to see him staring as the man walked away.

Merle stood for a moment before he kept jogging slowly on his route, his mind running through everything that had happened again and again. Caesar’s smile, his wave, even the way he groaned when he vomited.

“Fuck, that should not be so attractive,” Merle thought to himself as he rounded the way towards his apartment. “His eyes were so brown. No. Stop thinking about it.”

Merle opened the door to his apartment and walked inside.

“His hands were large and warm,” Merle thought. “Can’t think about that. He said it was nice to meet me. Shut up. He was just being nice.”

Merle could not silence his thoughts. Not in the shower either. Or at work. Once again, thoughts of the man he saw each morning filled his head. But now he had a name to put to the face.

“Caesar,” Merle thought. “What a perfect name.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU with no zombie apocalypse. Merle Dixon goes running each morning on the same route around the same neighbor. He sees the same man each morning, and never speaks to him, until one day he does.

Merle spent the next few days in a haze, except for his morning runs. There he was focused and ready. He had stopped fighting how excited he was to see Caesar each morning.

“There was no shame in it,” he told himself over and over. “You’re allowed a little joy in your life. It’s okay to think he’s attractive. Just don’t do anything about it.”

Merle had made it to the part in his run where he saw Caesar. For a moment he didn’t see the man, and his heart fell. Then a few yards down the road, Merle saw him. He must have started earlier, or Merle was getting slower.

Merle picked up the pace, determined to catch up with Caesar. He realized with a sadness that it was all he had going for him right now. Merle had been living alone for the better part of two years after he came home. Ma’ and Dad were dead. Daryl was off drinking and partying and fucking, a life Merle had to leave behind lest he fall into a pit he wasn’t sure he’d ever get out of. Merle’s steps sped up and his strides lengthened as he caught up to Caesar.

Caesar had his headphones in but no music playing. He had turned it off when he turned the corner he usually saw Merle at. He was worried the man wasn’t there. It was odd, but he enjoyed seeing the man each morning. Merle was not typically his type and up until recently Caesar hadn’t even allowed himself to explore the part of him that was attracted to men, but there was something about Merle.

His footfalls were muffled by his earbuds. He was listening intently for the sounds of a second set footfalls behind him. Maybe he left too early. Maybe he wouldn’t get to see Merle this morning. Caesar realized this shouldn’t affect him as much as it had, but after his wife left him he had never really felt anything close to attraction to another person until Merle.

Caesar’s attention piqued when he thought he heard the rhythmic footfalls of Merle behind him, but he didn’t turn around.

“Wait for him to catch up to you, don’t be desperate,” Caesar thought to himself.

He listened. Focused on what he was now sure were the footballs of someone behind him. They were getting closer. A minute later Caesar could see a figure that was about the size and shape of Merle out of the corner of his eye. He still didn’t turn his head. There was a part of him that knew he should just turn to look at the man but another part of him didn’t want to. Couldn’t.

“Don’t be desperate. Don’t be desperate,” he thought to himself.

Merle looked over and Caesar and noticed his headphones were in and his jaw was set. He didn’t even look over at him. Did Merle do something wrong? No. He just thought wrong. Of course. Of course this man wouldn’t think anything of him.

“Stupid. You’re stupid,” Merle thought to himself. He shook his head to try to clear it. “Keep going. Pass him.”

Merle tried to speed up his strides to pass Caesar, but his legs were already burning and his lungs gasping for air as he tried to keep up with the younger man. Merle pushed more. It was a warm morning. Warmer than usual. Later than he usually ran too. Late enough so that the morning cold had burned off and the humidity had set in, making Merle and Caesar both sweat considerably more. Merle could tell he needed water, but didn’t bring any with him. He forgot that morning.

“Too excited to see this jackass who doesn’t even care,” Merle thought to himself. He licked his lips to try to push away the dryness that had settled onto his mouth.

Caesar was now one hundred percent certain the man running next to him was Merle. He did his best to keep pace with the man. Even if he wasn’t brave enough to look at him or speak to him, he still enjoyed being near him. But it was getting harder.

“How is this old bastard so fast?” Caesar thought. He saw Merle start to pass him and sped his steps up to keep time with Merle’s.

Merle couldn’t seem to pass Caesar. It was like he was pacing him. He didn’t understand why this guy couldn’t just leave him alone. If he didn’t want anything to do with Merle, why wouldn’t he just let him pass him? Merle gritted his teeth and tried to extend his strides again as he reached the end of the next block. He misjudged the end of the curb and the ball of his foot landed hard on the edge.

“Fuck,” Merle called out when he felt himself fall. A second later he felt a pain shoot up through his leg and a burn go through his arm. “Shit.”

Merle knew he had twisted his ankle and banged his knee up pretty well and given himself some pretty serious road rash on his arm. Not to mention the embarrassment he felt at falling down in front of the man he was trying so hard to ignore.

Caesar saw Merle fall in front of him and gasped. He came to a stop, doing his best not to trip over Merle’s body in front of him. He saw the man hit the ground pretty hard and knew it must have hurt.

“Shit, you okay?” Caesar gasped out at Merle.

“Yah, Yah,” Merle mumbled. The pain was bad but not as bad as the embarrassment of doing that in front of this man. He’d done stupid things in front of women many times, but this was different. Why was this different? This shouldn’t be different.

“You scraped your arm up,” Caesar said, pointing at Merle’s forearm. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s not that bad,” Merle said. He took a deep breath and tried to stand. When he put his weight on his left leg, it gave out from under him and he fell back down. “Shit.”

Caesar saw Merle crumble underneath himself and knew that couldn’t have been good. Must have twisted or pulled something. Caesar reached his hand out to Merle and Merle took it.

“I’ll pull you up. Lean into me,” Caesar said.

Merle tried to stand again, this time putting the majority of his weight on his left leg. When he went to put weight on his left leg, Caesar tightened his grip and supported Merle’s weight. Merle was aware at how aware he was of Caesar’s hand. How warm it was. It was big too. Soft. But not too soft.

“Shut up,” Merle thought to himself.

Once he was standing on it, Caesar let go, holding his hands out in case Merle was going to fall again. Caesar could see Merle’s knee had already started to swell.

“At least you didn’t puke,” Caesar joked.

“Huh?” Merle said.

“Last week. When I puked. When I said good morning to you,” Caesar said. “Remember?”

Merle nodded. Of course he remembered. Why the hell did this guy? And Caesar remembered that Merle had said good morning to him.

“No. No. Don’t read anything into that,” Merle thought.

“Can you walk?” Caesar asked. He was still panting, his breathing not quite back to normal.

Merle noticed how the veins on his arms had puffed up and how his chest rose and fell with each breath, pressing into his thin tank top. Merle nodded and then kept nodding, unable to stop. When Caesar lifted his shirt to wipe his face and Merle saw his abs clearly defined on his stomach as he did. Merle suddenly became aware of how his stomach didn’t lay quite flat and how he’d become a bit soft in the middle over the past few years.

“Okay,” Caesar said after Merle didn’t respond further. “I live like a block from here. I can give you a ride home if you don’t wanna walk all the way back. Know you said you lived a couple neighborhoods over.”

Merle’s eyes widened in shock.

“Ya remembered that?” Merle gasped out without thinking.

Caesar tried to look cool and nod it off, but he knew he’d just revealed too much.

“There goes you’re cool,” he thought to himself.

“Uh, yeah,” Caesar said quickly. “Good memory. You want a ride or not?”

Caesar shrugged and Merle nodded that yes, he could use a ride.

“Can you walk?” Caesar asked.

Merle took a few tentative steps, more like hops, and nodded that yes he could. His legs screamed in pain but he wasn’t going to admit how much everything hurt right now. He just had to focus on not falling down in front of the man again. Caesar wanted to help Merle, offer to help him more, but didn’t think that touching him again and was a good idea. He already felt like he had messed up by revealing how much he remembered of their last conversation.

Caesar walked and Merle hobbled their way back to Caesar’s house. By the time they got there, any coolness of the morning had been burned off and replaced with relentless heat and humidity. Both men were covered in sweat and panting; Caesar with the heat and Merle with a queasiness that had settled in with the pain and the heat.

When they made it to Caesar’s place, a small house with a smaller yard and an old four door in front, Caesar opened the door to the car to help Merle in.

“Ya good?” Caesar asked before he closed the door. “You look like shit.”

“Fuck you,” Merle groaned out, mortified at his reaction for half a second before he saw that Caesar had laughed at his response. “Just thirsty.”

“Lemme get you some water,” Caesar said.

He ran to the front door and unlocked it before heading inside. Half a minute later he returned with a bottle of water. Merle took it with a nod of thanks and downed half of it in one giant sip.

Caesar got in the driver’s seat and asked Merle what street he lived on. Merle told him and Caesar started driving.

The drive was silent. Caesar thinking about how he was probably too forward with the man, offering to drive him home. Merle thinking about how Caesar helping him home and grabbing him that water bottle may have been the kindest thing anyone had ever done for him.

Nobody helps a Dixon boy like this.

Merle turned his head and looked Caesar over.

“Ya didn’t grow up here, did ya?” Merle asked.

“What’s that mean?” Caesar asked. He braced himself for some comment about how he should go back to Mexico.

“Ya don’t know who I am,” Merle said.

“Should I?” Caesar asked with a laugh.

“Nah, jus’ most people ‘round here know who the Dixon brothers are,” Merle said.

Caesar stopped at the light before Merle’s street, and waited to turn left. He noticed how small and run down the buildings were here, and noted the way that the few people who were milling around were not the kind of people he wanted to be around. No wonder Merle ran in Caesar’s neighborhood.

“You’ll have to explain to me what that means some time,” Caesar laughed. “‘Cause to me you look like every other white boy in town.”

Merle laughed and pointed at the rundown one bedroom on the and end of the street.

“That one; on the right,” Merle said. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Can you make it to the door?” Caesar asked.

Merle got out of the car with the help of the door frame. He stood on shaky legs, but figured he could make it.

“I should be okay, thanks,” Merle said.

He waved goodbye to Caesar and limped slowly to his door.

Caesar watched him go, careful to make sure the man didn’t fall over on his way there. He waited until the door had closed until he drove away.

As he did, he made a mental note to himself to ask around about the “Dixon Brothers.”


End file.
